


The Vagilantes, Or How Missy And Andrew Get Their Groove Back

by orphan_account



Series: Missy and Andrew Stories [1]
Category: Big Mouth (Cartoon), Big Mouth (Netflix), Big Mouth - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Episode s02e05: The Planned Parenthood Show, F/M, Future Fic, Getting Back Together, Miscarriage, Sort Of? Haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 11:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16597220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Nathan Fillion suddenly leaves the team, Missy must decide if she’ll long for the past, or head towards her future.





	The Vagilantes, Or How Missy And Andrew Get Their Groove Back

**Author's Note:**

> So I really didn't think I was gonna like this show when I saw the preview on Netflix, but my sister convinced me to watch it and MY GOD, I'M IN LOVE NOW.
> 
> After I was done binge watching it (twice) I looked up the show on AO3 and found frighteningly few fics for the thing, and zero for Andrew and Missy who are the cutest will-they-won't-they to ever ever, so, I decided to fix that.
> 
> This is one of three ideas I have, set in the fun lil Star Trek AU from the Planned Parenthood Show, and I'm excited to start boosting the fandom for these two, 'cause they deserve all the things. Let me know what you think if you read!

 

_The year is 2126. The evil LORD BILZERIAN has declared women’s healthcare “gay” and outlawed all Planned Parenthoods..._

 

_Luckily, an elite medical team travels the galaxy helping women in need. Led by CAPTAIN MISSY FOREMAN-GREENWALD, they are…_

 

_THE VAGILANTES..._

 

 

 

The team’s next mission is to help another woman on Texania, whose baby is currently in distress. Missy calls for Caleb to initiate hyperspeed, then sits back, losing the usual excitement that surges through her with the ship’s rush through space. This mission, this organization, it’s her life—but things haven’t been as invigorating for her ever since General Nathan Fillion left, for good, three days ago.

 

“Janitor Glouberman,” Missy says, with a small sigh, as Andrew cleans a console off to her right, “I just wanted to let you know that I've decided to promote you to General Glouberman, since, uh—since there’s been a job opening on my staff.”

 

Andrew’s eyes widen, and he smiles. “Really, Missy? I’m honored, and I promise, I will not let you down like I have...so many other times.”

 

“He’s referring to the time he told you he loved you at Jessi’s Bat Mitzvah and made you puke all over the photo booth.”

 

“Thank you for your candor, Pilot Caleb.” Missy shudders at the memory, though she can’t tell if she’s more embarrassed of herself or of Andrew, that night; that seems to be the theme of all of she and Andrew’s hormone-spurred encounters. “But uh, that was a hundred years ago!" she continues. "I can’t even remember what I ate that night that made me puke so much!”

 

“Yeah, I have questions, about that,” Andrew ponders, fidgeting nervously, “not the Bat Mitzvah itself, but about how it seems like that night was actually only a few months ago? But somehow, we’re in 2126 now, and we haven’t aged at all.”

 

“Andrew, time’s a complicated woman,” Missy explains.

 

The ship arrives on Texania, shrinking down to size and entering the desert home of the woman in question. She’s alone, writhing on her cot in pain, purple scaly skin covered in sweat. Missy swallows as their ship passes through the deep, dark, red vaginal walls; this is going to be a rough ride.

 

“Her uterine walls are cramping and shredding fast!” Missy takes control of the ship, guiding it through the murky, already dilated opening of the cervix; visibility is slim to none. “Connie, download status of the fetus, stat! Caleb, what do you read?”

 

“The fetus is eighteen weeks and no longer has a heartbeat. The mother has contracted bacterial vaginosis and has severe cervical insufficiency. Preterm labor is already underway.”

 

“Oh, god, oh, god,” Andrew panics, “what do we do?”

 

“It might be too late for cervical cerclage,” Missy states, rising quickly, “but I would be no Captain if I didn’t try.”

 

Missy equips her surgical kit and dashes to the ship’s external vulvular portal.

 

“Wait!” Andrew’s running after her. “Is that safe? Maybe I should go instead, as your General—“

 

Missy turns around, puts her finger to Andrew’s trembling lips.

 

“That’s very brave of you,” she says. “Don’t follow me.”

 

 

 

 

The Vagilantes were unable to prevent the miscarriage. The patient survived, but Missy can’t imagine the emotional toil she’ll go through now. Missy sits in her Captain’s chair quietly afterwards, trying to keep up a strong facade for her team as they slowly float through space once again, waiting for another call. Andrew approaches her side, shyly, after a couple of moments.

 

“Captain,” he says, clearing his throat. “Can I—would you like me to wash your uniform?”

 

Missy’s barely noticed that her space suit’s covered in blood. “Oh. Uh, yes, yes, please.”

 

She leads, letting Andrew follow her into the sanitation chambers of the ship. She’s numb to the usual stomach flips that accompany thoughts of undressing in front of him; she steps out of her suit, letting him hold it out for her, and he also seems, mostly, immune to her partial nudity.

 

“Thank you, General-Janitor Glouberman,” she says. “I guess you’ll have to fulfill a dual role, in the mean time, if you don’t mind.”

 

“No, um, I don’t.” Andrew’s face is burning red, but he looks away when she turns to look at him, walks off to activate the overhead shower panel to their left, soiled uniform in his gloved hands. He silently operates the biohazard clothe-wash next, it's whirring a soundtrack to their quickly beating hearts.

 

The water spraying on her is cold at first; she shivers underneath it, letting it slick away the evidence of her failed mission. She stares at Andrew’s back, wondering what he’s getting out of all this. Why he agreed to be her janitor in the first place. She talks a big game about every member of her team being equal, but maybe it was a little bit on purpose, she thinks now, making Nathan Fillion General and Andrew Manual-Shit-Handler. 

 

“Andrew?” she says.

 

He turns around, looks mortified at her wet undergarments, turns back around quickly.

 

“I’m glad you decided to join the team,” Missy says.

 

Andrew fidgets with his now idle hands, back still to her.

 

“I couldn’t imagine staying back in Lord Bilzerian’s world,” he says slowly. “A world without you. Even if it meant that I’d have to be your janitor forever... I’d be here.”

 

 

 

 

Some time later, spirits amongst the Vagilante crew have, mostly, returned to normal. With a clean, bright red uniform back on her, Missy returned to her Captain’s chair and announced to Connie, Caleb, and Andrew that she was proud of their persistence and teamwork in the dystopic universe, even if they failed sometimes.

 

Missy and Andrew are now in her Captain’s chambers—Connie insisted on following Missy up, but she probably does not need _th_ _ose thoughts_ in her head right now—playing a game of Bacterium Delirium. It makes Missy miss her parents, who are operating another Vagilante cell in her steed in another dimension.

 

“So,” Andrew says as they finish a round, smiling even though Missy just beat him by fifty points, again—he never was intimidated or embarrassed by her intellectual prowess over him, was he?— “Why _did_ Nathan leave the Vagilantes three days ago?”

 

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? It turns out _Castle_ was picked up by Nitflax for it’s 432nd season. He had to start filming on Hollywooxarian, right away.”

 

“Wait... He went _back_ to Bilzerian’s STD-infested hellscape? Willingly? ...For a _movie_?”

 

“Well, you know Nathan, always chasing the limelight.” Missy chuckles through the fact that talking about it still hurts a little. “Though my heart was broken with his departure, I also understand that his career was his first, passionate love. Also, you know _Castle_ is a TV show, right?”

 

“I just can’t believe that guy would leave you, for that.”

 

Andrew saying it out loud makes it all real, again: how Missy, even though she commands the most powerful female-empowering enterprise in the galaxy, is still that same 13 year old girl from ages ago. Still daydreams of riding horseback on Gustavo with Nathan Fillion—or Andrew, if she’s being very honest with herself—sometimes her dreams still even include Wiggles—still wants to be admired, found beautiful, and loved, for all her flaws, for who she is.

 

“Is it silly that even though I now command the most powerful female-empowering enterprise in the galaxy, sometimes, I just wanna go back to those glitter-tummy feelings from seventh grade?”

 

“Oh... No. Not at all.” Andrew’s blushing again. “Sometimes I miss Maury, even though he put me in all those terrible, awkward situations...”

 

And then, Missy’s suddenly crying. Talking about emotional stuff opens the floodgates. It’s a delayed reaction, maybe, to how she tries so hard to stay positive in her fight for women’s rights, but the world has always been so unfair and cruel. Today’s miscarriage, all it’s blood, will probably have some scarring effect on her, she fears.

 

“Oh, Missy.” Andrew’s glasses are fogging up. He wipes them, as Missy realizes that she also just said all of that out loud. “I know what happened today was…traumatizing… do you remember that day in sex-ed class with Coach Steve, when for some reason we all shared hallucinations? My mom actually...really did have an abortion. Somehow, I know that one was true. Watching what happened today made me think about how awful it must’ve been for her.”

 

Missy leans forward and hugs Andrew. This startles him at first, and he goes stiff, she can feel the heat radiating from his body, the sweat gathering on his neck. But, she holds tight, anyway, and eventually, he holds her back. Not the kind of hug she used to give him sometimes, the selfish, hormonal kind, the mons pubis gratifying kind. Just the kind between two friends, lost in space, for who knows how long in the rest of this future.

 

She holds him until all her tears dry up. Luckily, Missy has always bounced back fast. She knows, is emboldened with courage again because, Andrew’s here, will always be here, with his sometimes-perviness, sure, but most of all, with his love for her. His love that’s never stopped.

 

“Andrew?” Missy says.

 

“Yes?”

 

She pulls back from him, tears gone, and holds his face in her hands, smiling.

 

“I would like to kiss you now.”

 

"Oh. Okay."

 

She does; opens her mouth, finds his warm tongue with hers, losing herself in his heat, his soft hums. She’s taken back a hundred years ago, to making out with him in Leah’s closet, to dancing with him in Ancient Mesopotamia. She can hear Connie screaming a floor beneath them.

 

“I love you,” Missy says, breathless. “I was scared to say it back in the photo booth, all those years ago, but...I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

They stay up in her Captain's chambers hours, that night, holding each other close, counting the many stars.

 

 

 

 


End file.
